


Warrior

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone  (The 1st 100) [89]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Illya meets an unexpected warrior.





	

As assignments went, the one Illya Kuryakin was currently involved in was becoming one of his favourites. This was despite the attention he was getting from the many women around him.

Illya's cover was that of a gardener at a residential complex for senior citizens. Eighty percent of the residents were women, who treated him one of two ways. One set were what Napoleon would call 'game old birds'. They never missed an opportunity to make physical contact with their 'pretty young man'. Illya had been undercover for almost a week and he had learned quickly who to avoid.

The other group of women all seemed to be vying for a position as his babushka. If they weren't trying to feed him up with home-made soup, they were knitting him hats and sweaters. Yet, in spite of all this, Illya was enjoying the assignment.

His job was an easy one. He was watching the comings and goings at a large house across the street from the complex. It belonged to an exceptionally rich businessman, who was thought to be courting THRUSH. Illya's assignment was to photograph anyone who entered the house, using the camera hidden in the handle of his garden trowel. He was not to engage anyone.

The retirement complex had gardens to the front, which gave U.N.C.L.E. a perfect vantage point from which to observe the house during the day. During the night another agent watched the building from a dark car.

"Good morning, Mr Kuryakin."

Illya looked up into the smiling face of Mrs Kawabata as she hobbled by. He liked the little Japanese lady, and admired her determination. She was ninety-two years old, and had difficulty walking. However, this didn't deter her. Every morning, with the aid of two canes, she walked to the main gate and back. It was only a forty metre round trip, but it took her almost an hour. All offers of help were politely declined and Illya couldn't help but smile at her stubbornness. On an afternoon, following a rest, she would come out and help in the garden. She needed aid getting down to the ground, and back up again, but she wouldn't be stopped.

As he watched Mrs Kawabata go by, Illya noticed a large black car come to a stop outside the house he was watching. Raising his hidden camera in readiness, he was surprised to see a man exit the vehicle and start to come towards him. The man reached into his jacket and withdrew his gun. The Russian had his weapon on him, but knew he wouldn't have time to reach it.

"We don't appreciate U.N.C.L.E. watching any of our associates," The man stated as he got closer. "This will be a friendly warning."

Over the shoulder of the gunmen, Illya was astounded to see Mrs Kawabata raising one of her canes in a double handed grip; one hand at the end, and the other in the centre. She looked for all the world like a warrior wielding a naginata, a traditional pole weapon with a curved blade at one end. Mrs Kawabata swung the cane in a downward arc and made sickening contact with the gunman's head. He dropped like a stone.

Recovering quickly from his shock, Illya gently took hold of Mrs Kawabata and guided her to a garden seat.

"It would seem I have a warrior in my garden," he commented, as he carefully checked the lady over.

"And I think you are a gardener who goes to war," she replied, pointing at the unconscious man. "Though I suspect you aren't really a gardener."

Illya smiled but didn't answer. Instead he asked her about her martial art skills.

"Too many years ago I was a member of the onna-bugeisha."

"The female samurai?" Kuryakin asked. "I thought they died out long ago."

"They weren't technically samurai," Mrs Kawabata told him. "But yes, their status and function did diminish drastically. However, the female line of my family kept up the traditions and the training of the early onna-bugeisha. No-one knew why we continued, but we did. I taught my daughters, and they in turn have taught theirs."

Mrs Kawabata seemed to sag, as her energy drained.

"It was quite exhilarating to turn my hand to it again, as brief as it was," she said, laying a hand on Illya's arm. "It has, unfortunately, tired me out."

Illya helped her to her feet and offered to help her to her apartment. Naturally, she refused.

"You have your sleeping friend to deal with."

After retrieving Mrs Kawabata's canes, he watched to make sure she was steady on her feet before turning to the gunman. He pulled his communicator from his pocket and opened a channel. Mr Waverly was not going to be pleased about this.


End file.
